


The Sun's Daughter & The Griffin's Son

by KnightOfTheBurningTree



Series: The Rise of The Dragons [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post - A Dance With Dragons, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightOfTheBurningTree/pseuds/KnightOfTheBurningTree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 1 of The Rise of The Dragons</p>
<p>Arianne Martell meets with Aegon VI Targaryen on her fathers orders to determine if Dorne should pledge its forces to him.</p>
<p>Post series AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sun's Daughter & The Griffin's Son

Arianne I

  
She could scarcely believe her eyes but there it was. A dragon banner, the first dragon banner to fly in Westeros since the end of the near 300 year reign of the Targaryens. It was a strange and exciting sight full of history but Arianne Martell, Princess of Dorne couldn’t shake the bad feeling that came with the sight of the banner. 

 

She turned to her sworn shield Daemon Sand, "Come Daemon, let us meet this dragon."

 

"After you my Princess." He replied.

  
They rode up through the main gates of Storms End, her eyes constantly scanning her new surroundings. The remnants of the battle were everywhere, blood, swords and dead men lay strewn over the courtyard of the ancient castle. The courtyard was filled with living soldiers as well, a myriad of different men from the Free Cities and exiles from Westeros who all serve in The Golden Company and of all things, an elephant! She could feel their eyes on her as she and Daemon rode in, but this was nothing new to her. She had endured the stares of men before, in Dorne and anywhere that she travelled really. As they dismounted, they were met by a clean shaven man in what appeared to be the grey robes of a maester but he wore no chains.

He had a lined, ascetic face with greying hair pulled back in a knot behind his head, he greeted them coolly, "Well met Princess Arianne, I am known as Haldon. Haldon Halfmaester to some. I serve as Maester for the king."

She looked at him before replying, "How do you know who I am?"

He replied with a smirk, "Let's just say a little bird told me. This way Princess, the King awaits your arrival."

He led them through the broken doors into the keep, where evidently the battle had reached as well. "What happened here Haldon?" He turned to her, "We found the castle under siege by Tyrell men under the leader ship of Lord Mathis Rowan of Goldengrove, they were so focused on their so-called siege that they weren’t prepared for any attacks from behind. Not after we killed their scouts that is."

The princess nodded in approval, "Did you capture any men?"

  
"We did Princess, they have now joined our cause. Lord Mathis and what remained of his token force helped us take the castle from The Usurper Stannis' men."

"Some would call your dragon king the usurper."

"Would you be one of those people Princess."

"We shall see Haldon"

They walked into the audience chamber of Storms End where a young silver haired boy sat on the high seat. By his side stood and older man with greying red hair. _That must be the Hand of this Dragon King, Lord Jon Connington of Griffin's Roost. But who was this who stood to the Kings left?_ To the kings left stood a tall knight with a white cloak. Another Kingsgaurd. She couldn't help but think of Ser Arys and his demise and hoped this one didn't suffer the same fate.

"Your Grace, allow me to present Arianne of House Martell, a Princess of Dorne and heir to Sunspear. Princess, you are in the presence of Aegon of House Targaryen, Sixth of his name, Rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. The Hand of The King, Jon Connington, Lord of Griffin's Roost and Ser Rolly Duckfield of The Kingsgaurd."

She stepped forward cautiously, "Your Grace, I have been sent by my father, Prince Doran Martell to represent Dorne and her interests."

"You are most welcome My Lady, to Storms End, the first stop on my way to the Iron Throne."

"Princess." Grumbled Lord Connington.

"Forgive me Princess Arianne, I meant no disrespect. Dornish customs are quite new to me, hopefully you can help me with them."

He spoke well...for a boy. For that is what he was, a mere boy under the control of this Griffin Lord. Was this boy a dragon though? That's what she needed to know.

"No need for forgiveness Your Grace. I would love to share all there is to know about Dorne. I would prefer to do it in private though." She replied, seductively.

Lord Connington cleared his throat and the boy replied, "Yes Princess. I think that would be best, Lord Connington and Haldon will join us in my solar and we can discuss our mutual futures."

She followed them to the solar where she hoped to finally discover the truth behind this boy who would be king. The solar was untouched by the attack on the castle. A fire was lit in the main hearth and the room was lit by torches along the walls. A large table covered with a detailed map of the Seven Kingdoms stood in the center of the room. No doubt an attempt to recreate Aegon The Conqueror's Painted Table.

"Your Grace, forgive me if I speak out of turn but how is it that you live? It is well known from Dorne to The Wall that Prince Aegon died at the hands of The Mountain that Rides, Gregor Clegane, along with Princess Rhaenys and my aunt, Princess Elia."

He sighed, "I suppose I will have to answer this question a thousand times over. I was switched with another baby before that monster known as Gregor Clegane could lay his hands on me. I was smuggled out of the city and raised by Lord Connington in exile across the Narrow Sea."

"So why have you returned? Why not stay in exile?"

"I have returned to reclaim what is mine. The Iron Throne."

"What of your aunt? It is said the Dragon Queen is headed for the Iron Throne. Are we to witness another Dance of Dragons?"

He stared at her and for the first time, she noticed his purple eyes. As if the silver hair was not enough, he had the eyes of the Dragon lords of Old Valyria as well. "My aunt now rules in Mereen, she has shown no intentions of crossing the Narrow Sea but if she did, I would not fight her for the throne."

  
Smart boy, she thought, he knows he stands no chance against Daenerys and her dragons. Lord Connington interjected rudely, "We are not here to discuss Daenerys. We're here to discuss whether Dorne will pledge its spears to help Elia's son reclaim what is rightfully his."

"Only my father may pledge Dornes spears to a cause. I do not have that authority."

"Then why are you here, Princess?"

"To determine whether this Aegon is a true dragon or a mummers ploy to help an exiled and bitter Lord make up for his past mistakes and take revenge on House Baratheon."

The look he gave her was one of pure fury and hatred. If looks could kill, then no man alive would be deadlier than Lord Jon Connington. She noted that is hand was clenched tightly and shaking slightly.

The King spoke softly, "Pincess Arianne meant no disrespect my Lord. Please allow me to speak to the Princess alone."

The Griffin Lord straightened up and replied, "Your Grace." And left the solar with Haldon.

He turned to her and smiled, "Now Princess, I'm all yours."

She returned the smile, thinking. Yes, all mine.


	2. The Griffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Jon Connington has some news to share with King Aegon VI but it seems Aegon has news of his own

The Griffin

It hadn’t taken long for the servants of Storm's End to become accustomed to him breaking his fast with a pitcher of the worst wine they had in store. He had little doubt that they had no idea the real reason he requested the wine. If they did, he hoped they kept it to themselves. If word got out that Lord Jon Connington, Hand to the True King was a walking dead man; it would ruin Aegon's chances of reclaiming his family's throne. And that was something he could never let happen. He could not allow himself to fail Rhaegar's son. Thankfully, the greyscale had been slow in spreading.

_Perhaps I haven’t been wasting all this wine after all_ , he thought grimly as he examined his afflicted hand. All the nails on his fingers were now black, including his thumb. The grey had crept up past the second knuckle on all his fingers. He stared at his fingers and for the thousandth time, he cursed Tyrion Lannister. If it wasn’t for the dwarf's foolishness, he would not be watching death slowly creep up his arm. 

He dried the wine off his hands and put on a pair of thick black gloves. Thankfully, with winter having arrived in the Stormlands, wearing gloves everyday was not out of place. He put on a dark red cloak before leaving his chambers. He walked slowly through the halls of Storm's End, thinking about the latest raven Haldon had received from Varys. The news was not good. Since taking Storm's End, Haldon had been sending ravens out across the realm to announce their victory and the return of a Targaryen king. They had received too few replies for his liking, most of which expressed doubt at the legitimacy of his claims. So far, they only had the possible support of Dorne. Prince Doran had yet to pledge his support, waiting on his daughters assessment before making his decision.

He continued on towards the audience chamber in Storms End and was surprised to find that the King was already present, seated in the high seat as well as a near full court. His entrance and the scowl on his face silenced everyone present. It was hard to keep the anger from his features. Of late the King had been less inclined to turn to him for advice and often did things without consulting him. First it was naming Ser Rolly Duckfield to his Kingsgaurd, who now stood by his side. Then it was allowing Arianne Martell to be a part of his councils without so much as speaking to him about it first. Now, he was holding court without him. He had no doubts that this was the work of the Dornish Princess; she was oft in his company of late.

"Lord Connington, how good of you to join us." Princess Arianne called out in her exotic Dornish accent. "It would seem you are just in time."

"Apologies Princess, I was delayed." He knew better than to shame his King by chastising him in front of an audience. This would just have to wait until they were alone. _Hopefully it would be without Princess Arianne present._ He strode up to the dais, taking the seat to the King's left and looked down at the petitioner he had interrupted.

"As I was saying um... Your Grace, I am Ser Bennard Brune, The Knight of Brownhollow and I'm here as a representative of the noble houses of Crackclaw Point." The knight who stood before them was a tall man in his middle years, with a strong jaw and a short cropped beard to cover it. He wore a white cloak trimmed with brown fur over a white doublet that was blazoned with the arms of his house, a brown bear's paw. "As you well know Your Grace, the houses of Crackclaw Point have always been ardent supporters of your family. Since the days of the Conquest when Visenya Targaryen herself won our allegiance, we have sworn directly to House Targaryen. Members of House Brune fought for the blacks during the Dance of Dragons, 3 knights of House Crabb have served in the Kingsgaurd and many of Cracklaw Point's lords and champions fought alongside Prince Rhaegar at The Trident. I have in my possession, sworn oaths of fealty signed by the Lords of House's Crabb, Boggs, Cave, Hardy, Pyne and of course House Brune." He finished with a stiff bow to the King.

The King stood to address the knight, "In the name of my forebears, I would like to thank you and all the men and women of Crackclaw Point who have displayed such loyalty to my family. I gratefully accept your oath of fealty good Ser and those of the houses you represent. Soon, I will call upon those who have sworn to me and we will march on Kings Landing to retake the Iron Throne and restore peace and justice to Westeros. For tonight though, we will feast and celebrate this new addition to our cause."

Connington could not help but smile at the way the king had spoken. The boy had learned to speak like a true king and it made him feel proud to know he had had a part in it. _I pray the Gods give me a few more years that I may see him come into his throne. After all these years of furtive hiding, desperate planning and infuriating waiting, it would be a shame to not see the results of it all._

The young king called for an end to the audience and began to leave the room with Ser Rolly, the Dornish Princess and her sworn shield. Connington got up to follow as they headed to the solar that the king had been using. At Griffin's Roost, he had taken the Lords chambers as was his right but at Storm's End, Aegon took the chambers that had once belonged to The Usurper and that felt right. Even though he had proposed the idea of taking Storms End as a show of strength to the realm, it was actually a lot more personal than that. Robert Baratheon had humiliated him at Stoney Sept, taking the castle of his ancestors was a small measure of revenge. Not only for him but for Aegon as well, it was a way of showing the realm that they had come to avenge Rhaegar.

He walked in silence, following the king's small group. The king had done little to acknowledge his presence but the Princess turned to him as they were walking. "Lord Connington, Aegon and I have been discussing what comes next for him. The realm is well aware of his strength now that he has taken the _impregnable_ Storms End but I believe he should not sit idle. As those dreary Stark's would say, Winter Is Coming. What say you?"

_Aegon and I. How familiar she has become._ If they did not need her family's support, he would remind her of her place. Instead, with as much restraint as could, he replied, "I am curious as to what _His Grace_ has to say about this."

Without turning to look at him, the king spoke, "I agree with Princess Arianne." _What a surprise_ , he thought sarcastically. "I agree with her, though I'm uncertain of where we should strike next. My heart tells me we need to take Dragonstone. It is the ancestral Targaryen home and with the proximity of Crackclaw Point to the island, our new supporters could play a big part."

They had reached the kings solar and as Ser Rolly held the door for them, they entered. Aegon took the lords seat while Princess Arianne took a seat at his left at the table that stood in the centre of the room. He sat on the right, which was his place as the King's Hand. Princess Arianne sat across from him and he could feel her eyes on him. She was not very tall but she had a way of carrying herself that seemed to add some height to her. It reminded him of Elia Martell. Though where Elia had been slim and delicate, Arianne had a fuller body, that was lush and curvy. They shared similar eyes, dark and bold. The eyes of a seductress, with a cunning smile to match. He did not deny her beauty but after Elia had turned our to be so wrong for Rhaegar; so weak and frail, he had a hard time trusting this Dornish Princess.

Connington turned his eyes to King Aegon, "Your Grace, what does your head tell you?"

"That I should ask you for your advice, which is what I'm doing now."

_It seems I have not lost him yet._ "Your Grace, I believe we should make for King's Landing." 

"I thought the Tyrell's have a large host nestled in the city; do you think we _could_ take The Capital?"

He brought out a raven scroll and handed it to the king before replying, "Haldon has had a raven concerning the Capital. As you know, after Kevan Lannister was murdered, The Trial of The Queens was delayed. We now know that Queen Margaery has been proven innocent by The Faith. Queen Cersei opted for a trial by combat and her white knight was able to prove her innocence as well and she has reclaimed the regency. The important part is, a large portion of the Tyrell host has returned to Highgarden in hopes of stopping the Ironborn's attacks."

"Last we had heard, The Arbor was under siege and Lord Redwyne fleet was still on its way back from Dragonstone," added Princess Arianne. "Being hindered at every turn by winter storms and well placed Ironborn ambushes. Have you had any more news concerning them?"

He wondered how she had come by that news. Has Haldon been sharing his reports with the Princess? "Indeed I have Princess. The Ironborn have taken the Arbor and have laid siege to Oldtown."

Arianne was clearly taken aback by the news. "How is that possible!? What of the Redwyne Fleet?"

"Though I am loathe to speak the praises of such a man, it seems this Euron Crow's Eye is no fool. He laid a trap for the Redwyne fleet by attacking The Arbor with a small number of ships whilst hiding the remainder of his fleet by running them aground south of Three Towers. When Lord Redwyne rushed in to liberate his home, they were met by a ragtag fleet made up of captured ships. Not seeing the obvious trap before him, Lord Redwyne rushed in and was met with wildfire.

"Wildfire?" asked Aegon, confused.

"Yes Your Grace, it seems as though Euron took a page out of The Imps book and sent in ships filled with wildfire to weaken the fleet before bringing in his Ironborn to take Redwyne from behind. The Redwyne fleet was no match for the Ironborn and Lord Paxter was captured. They say Euron stuffed him into a wine barrel and threw him overboard." Connington shook his head at it all, "Oldtown will never be able to hold off Euron before the Tyrell host arrives. The Ironborn now control every island on the west coast of the continent, excluding Bear Island and Fair Isle and soon they will control one of the most important ports in Westeros."

The King remained silent as he listened. It was Arianne who spoke first, "This is grave news indeed, though it seems we owe the Ironborn a measure of thanks for weakening the capitals defences. With the Tyrells gone, we could take Kings Landing."

He could barely contain the shock in his voice when he turned to her and said, "We? Does this mean your father has agreed to support us?"

The princess deliberately turned her gaze to Aegon before replying in her sensual Dornish drawl, "Well, I believe I will leave that to my silver king. He has something he needs to discuss with you and I will leave him to it." She rose from her seat slowly and laid a soft kiss on Aegon's cheek before leaving followed by Daemon Sand. He watched the display with a scowl on his face.

Aegon was practically blushing, no different from a shy maid being courted for the first time. His eyes had followed the princess out and it took Connington clearing his throat to return him to his senses.

"Isn't she beautiful Jon?"

He didn’t have the heart to dash the boy's hopes with his mistrust and doubts. "Aye Your Grace, that she is. I believe you have something to tell me though."

Aegon rose to his feet and went to a side table to pour himself a goblet of wine and drank deeply as if to calm himself which only made Connington more curious.

"Prince Doran has agreed to support us on one condition." Aegon lowered his head and in a barely audible whisper added, "That I marry Arianne."

He slammed his clenched fist on the table. He had been holding in his anger for too long, this was the last straw. The gall of these Dornish was too much. He had already lost his Rhaegar to Elia. He would not lose another silver prince to some wanton Dornish wench. "I hope you are not entertaining this notion, you have to wed Daenerys."

"When? Daenerys may never leave Mereen and even if she did, you have no way of knowing that she'll want me. Tyrion said –"

"Tyrion!? What does that dwarf know of what's best or you? I'm the one who has been there for you all these years. Protected you, raised you, taught you what you needed to know to become King. No, I will not listen to some dwarfs counsel. You will marry Daenerys, end of discussion."

The king threw his goblet across the room, "I will not! I do not want or need Daenerys. I want Arianne and we need Dorne."

The outburst took him aback. He had never seen this side of Aegon before and it frightened him. "Aegon, please, listen to me –"

"I have already agreed to the match."

_Gods help us._


	3. The Battle of The Kingswood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Tyrell forces marching to take Storm's End, King Aegon and his Hand, Lord Jon Connington enact a plan to stop them.

The Stone Griffin

_Had they made a mistake?_ , Jon Connington wondered to himself.

He clenched his fist, trying in vain to not let his anger get the best of him, trying not to voice his impatience. It would ruin his image of control if he did. The time for voicing his insecurities was in the council that had agreed to this risky plan. That time had passed, now was the time for action. As long as everything went to plan. 

After their victory at Storm's End, allies from across the Stormlands had slowly trickled in to join their cause; smallfolk, hedge knights and landed knights, lords great and small all seeking glory. They were a welcome addition that bolstered their ranks, unlike those from the Riverlands who sought protection from the roving outlaws and broken men. _Useless mouths who if pressed into combat would only be useful as arrow fodder_. All these new additions Connington would gladly suffer. It was the blatantly obvious liars and sycophants that made him grind his teeth in anger. A small delegation from Darry had arrived, pledging loyalty to the Targaryen cause. Haldon had advised him to be wary because of Darry's ties to both the Lannisters and the Frey's. Unfortunately Prince Aegon had learnt his histories well enough to remember all that House Darry had done for the Targaryen's and had accepted them gracefully. 

It was another in a list of sore points for Lord Connington, as the King's Hand he thought he would remain the highest voice in all councils and in decisions but had found his position being slowly compromised. Foremost was the Princess Arianne, who now seemed to hold his king firmly in the palm of her hand. It was the Princess who pushed for this plan when it had been first suggested. Connington could not deny that the plan had a certain level of cunning but if they failed, the Tyrells would destroy them.

The archers were positioned in the trees of the Kingswood, awaiting the approaching Tyrell army. They had been in position for the past hour, since dawn, in nervous anticipation of the Tyrell forces. Lord Connington had near on 600 knights in position to the East of the route the Tyrells would take. Connington was relying heavily on the Tyrells unfamiliarity with the dense woods of the Rainwood and the cold snowy winds. The latter more than anything. He knew that the large destriers that the gallant knights of the Reach favoured would have a difficult time in the increasingly snowy Stormlands. His men had exchanged their destriers for lighter palfreys and geldings as much as possible. Near on 200 of his number would continue to use destriers and would therefore be his reserve force for this charge. The second and final part of his attacking force would be at least 5000 men of the Golden Company. A mixture of horse and foot that all his King's hopes rested upon. If those men failed to carry out their part... No! They will not fail us. I refuse to think of it. 

"My lord Hand?"

Turning to the sound of his king's voice, Connington replied calmly, "Yes, Your Grace?"

Aegon looked every bit the Targeryen king he was meant to be. Much to the boy's pleasure they had finally washed out the blue dye from his hair and the last traces of it had faded, leaving behind his natural silver gold locks that flowed down just past his shoulder's. He sat his horse regally, the armour Magister Illyrio had gifted him fit him perfectly and drew every eye. Steel plate black as midnight, from helm to heel, with ornate blood red scrollwork inlaid on his greaves and gauntlets. His rondels were forged in the shape of dragons heads, crimson and fearsome. Across the breastplate was the armour's defining feature, the three headed dragon of House Targaryen picked out in hundreds of tiny rubies that seemed to shine in the predawn gloom. 

"Do you think Ser Rolly's part of the plan has worked?"

Connington frowned slightly, "Are you having second thoughts about sending Rolly, Your Grace?"

Aegon looked abashed as he replied, "Its only that, I worry after him. I would hate to lose Duck, he has been a part of my life for a long time now and he is the first of my Kingsguard." 

_Would that he were the last_ , thought Connington as he looked past Aegon to glare at the second of the burgeoning Kingsguard. Ser Daemon Sand. _Not just a bastard, a Dornish bastard at that_. A gift from Princess Arianne, one that Aegon had gladly accepted. A gift that Lord Connington held little trust in.

"He has Ser Franklyn Flowers with him to keep him safe and some 50 men to ensure that they succeed. Men who have danced this dance dozens of times in the Disputed Lands. They will not fail us."

His Grace seemed to take heart at that and straightened himself up in the saddle with a smile on his face. Seeing him smile always brought on thoughts of his silver prince, Rhaegar.

A shrill bird call broke him from his thoughts and he turned his head towards the sound. The signal! It was time. Black Balaq and his archers had awaited the approaching Tyrell forces as they moved south from King's Landing along the kingsroad. A part of his men were in the trees while some were hidden in the shrubbery. Now they would rain arrows down on the Tyrells. From where he was positioned with the king and the knights, he could hear they call of trumpets as the arrows started to fall and the men of the Reach panicked. The silence of the woods was now broken by the screams of men and horses in pain as hundreds of arrows fell from the trees and rose from the shrubbery. To the Tyrells it must seem as if the woods themselves were attacking them. He smiled at the thought.

"Its almost time My King, are you ready for this?"

King Aegon had a look of focus and determination on his face and nodded sharply, "I'm ready My Lord Hand. We will begin the attack on your word."  
Connington bowed his head slightly and tried to hide the fierce pride he felt at the king he had raised as his own son. Turning to the assembled knight's, he raised his voice to address them. "The time has come Ser's! Today we take the fight to them! Today we bring the TRUE King's Justice to false friends and usurpers! Sound the horn Ser Tristan, we ride for battle!" 

A cheer rose at his words and the sound of the horn rippled through the woods. He donned his helm and unsheathed his sword, pointing it toward the enemy. "For the king!", he bellowed and hundreds answered in kind, "For the king!"

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on this site. Please feel free to comment


End file.
